


stage 3 clinger

by ohmcgee



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Don't Judge Me, M/M, This is what happens when you don't sleep, Trope Bingo Round 4, complete and utter nonsense, mentions of child prostitution, virginfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-03
Updated: 2015-02-03
Packaged: 2018-03-10 06:18:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3279893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmcgee/pseuds/ohmcgee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Timothy Drake needs help with an undercover mission and Jason Todd hates his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	stage 3 clinger

Jason should probably be surprised, or at the very least pissed, that Drake has somehow found _another_ one of his safe houses and gotten past the security _again_ , but it’s like the third time in the past month, so there’s not much surprise there and he’s too fucking tired to fight about it right now. 

“What do you want this time?” He asks, getting a beer out of the fridge.

“I need to go undercover for a bit to get intel on a possible child prostitution ring.” Straight to business. That’s why (he will never admit this to anyone), Drake is his favorite. Never wastes his time. 

“Y’know I’ve never thought about it, but now that you bring it up, I can definitely see it.” Jason leers, but it’s cut short when Tim’s cheeks go all ruddy and he begins to fidget. He was _joking,_ god. “Wait, what. You’re kidding, right?”

“No, it’s the only way to get close enough to find out who’s behind it.”

Jason just stares at him for a minute, then finally says, “Well, no one can doubt your dedication to the job, Drake, that’s for sure. But what are you telling me for? Don’t you have people for this?”

Tim’s blush begins to spread out across his cheeks. Interesting. “Well. It’s been pointed out to me that I might not make a very convincing...candidate. On the account of...that I’ve never…”

Jason forgets how to blink. “Because you’re a virgin,” he supplies. Jesus, he always knew the replacement was wound a little too tight -- this explains why. Still doesn’t explain why he’s telling _him_ of all people. Normally Jason would commence to mocking the shit out of him, maybe text a couple hundred people he knows, finally set up the twitter account Roy keeps bugging him to make, but he seriously _just_ walked in the door off of a three day long case in which Roy got turned into a literal child for twenty-four hours so yeah, he’s beyond exhausted. “Which would make it difficult to convince people you’re a fucktoy, I get it. But --”

Tim holds his hand up. “I don’t want anyone else to know about this. For some strange reason, I...no, I’m not sure _trust_ is the correct term, but I respect your methods? And what you’ve been through? And I know you, whether you want to believe that or not, and you know me. We understand each other.”

“You going to get to a point any time this century?”

Tim flusters, runs his fingers through his hair. “I need your help,” he spits out before he decides to turn and run. 

_“With_?” Jason’s patience is wearing thin. No fuck that, he had to deal with a three year old Roy Harper for twenty-four hours, his patience is _non-existent_. But Tim is looking at him like he’s a fucking idiot, so obviously he’s missing something.

“With being able to convince them.” He says and rolls his eyes when Jason _still_ isn’t getting it. “With _not being a virgin anymore.”_

Jason’s mouth sort of just falls open. Then he starts laughing. Hysterically. “Oh my god, you are the _weirdest_ kid I’ve ever met, do you know that? Seriously, who does this? You. Only you, baby bird.” He seriously can’t stop laughing. What. The. Hell.

Tim scowls. “Fine. I’ll find someone else.”

“What,” Jason’s laughter calms down a few degrees, but doesn’t stop completely. “Going to go offer your v-card up to Grayson next?”

Tim makes a disgusted face. “I have plenty of money. I can pay someone to-”

Jason stops laughing. “You’re really, honest to god serious about this, aren’t you?”

Tim sets his jaw, nods. “Of course I’m serious. It’s important, Jason.”

“Because of the children.”

“Yes. because of the children.”

 _Think of the children, Jason!_ He thinks and tries to hold it together.

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters under his breath and takes Tim in, all sharp angles and bony limbs, standing in Jason’s living room in a pair of tattered chucks and designer jeans, asking Jason to take his fucking _virginity_ like it’s just another day at the office, like it’s a fucking _case_. TIm’s not even thinking of it in the personal sense, just something necessary for carrying out the mission. It’s insane. It’s fucked _up_ , but Jason kind of gets it. Tim’s always been the one to compartmentalize, detach himself from emotions in order to get the job done at all costs, and in a way Jason can respect the hell out of that. But mostly he just feels fucking sorry for the kid. 

“So will you do it?”

Jason’s mouth has gone dry. This is the weirdest conversation he’s ever had, maybe. It’s definitely the weirdest one he’s ever had with his replacement. But Tim’s standing there with his hands in his pockets, chewing on his bottom lip with his hair sticking out all over and all Jason can think is _damn, I’m gonna fucking wreck you, boy._

He laughs, brittle and broken off. “Sure, kid. How we gonna do this? Do I buy you dinner first or what?” He still can’t believe this is an actual conversation they’re having. Not that he hasn’t thought about it once or ten times before, but the fact that Tim is here, basically propositioning him. It’s surreal. Tim rolls his eyes and unzips his jacket. His shirt says _Han Shot First_. Jason likes it because he actually gets that reference.

“I want you to fuck me, not _date_ me, Jason,” Tim says and Jason nearly chokes to death. 

“So,” he says. He could _really_ go for a smoke about now. “You just want to get straight to it? Now?”

Tim shrugs. “Unless you have some place you have to be.”

 _An army of Joker clones couldn’t get me out of this apartment right now_ , Jason thinks, but just shakes his head and says, “Nope, schedule’s clear.” He’s...not sure that’s entirely accurate, but as he said, an _army of Joker clones_. 

“Should we go to the bedroom?” Tim asks and god, Jason wonders if he’s going to be this serious and matter-of-fact about the whole thing. If he really wants to pass as someone who knows _anything_ about sex, he’s got to loosen the fuck up.

“All right,” Jason says, running his fingers through his hair. “Here’s your first lesson. You can’t just skip right to the fucking. Foreplay is going to be a challenge for you, I see. C’mere.” He crooks his finger at Tim and pats his lap.

Tim raises his eyebrows, but walks over to Jason anyway and just stands there between Jason’s sprawled legs when he reaches him, looking down at him. Jason tries not to laugh; it probably wouldn’t be helpful, but fucking hell this kid is ten shades of awkward.

“I said _c’mere_ ,” he says and grabs Tim by his tiny boy hips and pulls him down into his lap. Tim makes a surprised noise in the back of his throat and braces his hand on the back of the couch when he falls, bracketing Jason’s thick, muscular thighs with his own, that look - no are -- tiny in comparison.

“Relax,” Jason says, sliding his hand up the back of Tim’s shirt. “You’re too fuckin’ tense. Kiss me.”

Tim’s eyes widen. “What?” 

“You’re the one that’s got something to prove, not me, so show me what you got.” 

Tim gives a little half nod, as if he approves of this reasoning, and shifts in Jason’s lap, _hello_. He closes his eyes and leans down, bumping Jason’s nose.

“Sorry,” he mutters and tries again, better this time, sucking Jason’s bottom lip into his mouth, then licking his way inside, letting his fingers slide into Jason’s hair and pressing closer to Jason as he deepens the kiss, exploring Jason’s mouth with tongue and teeth. That one kiss seems to go on _forever_ it seems, thanks to Bruce’s training they can both hold their breath for an unnaturally long time, but eventually even they have to break apart and come up for air.

_Shit._

“What?” Tim smirks as if he can read Jason’s mind; it’s a good look on him. “Just because I haven’t had sex doesn’t mean I can’t _kiss_.” 

“It was all right,” Jason lies. “A little too Harlequin romance novel, though. People who go to dives like that, they don’t want that happily ever after shit. They want _rough_ and _dirty_. Think you can pull that off, baby bird?”

Jason can see the expression on Tim’s face change from inquisitive to _challenge accepted_. Then Tim’s grabbing his face and crushing his mouth with his own, letting one of his hands fall down to wrap around Jason’s throat _holy shit_ , as the other slips into Jason’s hair and pulls it by the root. The kiss isn’t slow and languid like before, mouths slip-sliding together, it’s bruising and _hot_ and Tim keeps dragging Jason’s lip between his teeth and his thumb is digging into Jason’s trachea and --

“How was that?” Tim leans back and studies Jason’s face, like all it is is data he needs to collect. This is why he doesn’t have to worry about Tim going all clingy and moony-eyed on him afterward. This is just sex to him -- not even that, it’s almost more like training to him than anything else. It’s data and information and skills to use in the field, no emotions necessary. This is probably the best set up Jason could get, actually. 

“That,” Jason says, admittedly out of breath, mouth numb and swollen. “Will pass.”

Tim beams, obviously pleased with himself. “Now sex?”

“Good god,” Jason groans. “Stop talking.” He says and grabs Tim by the back of the neck, pulling him back into another kiss. This time he takes control, no rhyme or reason, no lesson here, he’s just trying to get Tim to stop _thinking_ so damn much. He slides his hand up Tim’s back and Tim makes a muffled sound against his mouth. 

They kiss until Jason gets bored with that, then he bites along Tim’s jaw and down his throat, listens to Tim’s breath go all ragged and stuttery when he sucks tiny bruises into his pretty, pale neck. 

“You’re gonna be all marked up, baby bird,” he whispers next to Tim’s ear and feels him shudder beneath his hands. Good. He no longer feels like a taut tension rope in Jason’s hands and _oh_ , that’s Tim’s mouth on his neck, teeth grazing his skin. Jesus christ. 

Jason groans as Tim bites him and simultaneous grinds against him, and _fuck_ , the shirt’s got to go. He yanks and tugs it up and over Tim’s bony arms and elbows and tosses it behind them, dropping his hands to those tiny little hips and putting his mouth on Tim’s collarbone. 

Tim makes a needy, impatient noise and grabs at Jason’s shirt, but has to wait until Jason sits up and can pull it off over his own head, but then -- _then_. Skin on skin, fuck yes, Tim’s grabby hands all over him, exploring every muscle, mapping out every scar. Jason wants to kick his own ass for not thinking of this sooner. The kid’s so fucking _small_ , it’s insane. He could just pick him up, throw him around, _christ_ Jason bets he’s flexible as shit too. 

Tim frowns when Jason pulls away from him and leans back against the couch. 

“What are you doing?” 

“I want to look at you,” Jason says, low and husky, appreciating the way Tim blushes under his scrutiny. He’s not entirely scrawny of course, you pick up a bit of muscle with all the training and swinging around the city at all hours of the night tones the fuck out of your upper body, and his abs, Jason wants to _lick_ them.

“Jason,” Tim says uneasily and squirms. He’s not used to being looked at like this, always hiding under his hoodies and t-shirts, which Jason now wants to find and burn every single one of. 

“Mmm, gotta get used to being leered at by dirty old men,” he says, demonstrating just the kind of leer Tim should expect when going under cover, letting his eyes slowly fall down Tim’s body, licking his lips. 

Tim glances between them at Jason’s obvious erection and leans forward a little, grinds against him and hovers right over his mouth. “Do we have sex _now_?” 

Jason nearly fucking _growls_. Like he hasn’t wanted to bend the kid over and wreck him ever since the word virgin fell from that pretty, pretty mouth of his. But no, Tim’s here for an actual _reason_ , of course, not just so Jason can get laid, so he has to control himself.

“ _Now_ ,” he says, dragging his thumb over Tim’s mouth, tugging at his plush, plump little bottom lip. “You get down on your knees and really convince me you can do this.”

Tim blinks. “Seriously?”

“With a mouth like yours, kid, I can almost guarantee that’s all they’re going to want you for. You should probably know how to use it.”

Tim swallows. “What do you mean, a mouth like mine?”

Jason leans forward, traces Tim’s bottom lip back and forth with his index finger. “I _mean_ ,” he says. “Some boys were just _made_ to suck cock, baby bird. You’ve got a mouth that _everyone_ wants to fuck. I don’t care who they are, Grayson, _Bruce_ \-- you can’t see a pretty mouth like yours and not imagine it wrapped around your cock.” 

“ _Jesus_ ,” Tim shudders out in two syllables and Jason takes the opportunity to slip his finger in between those soft, perfect lips of his. 

“ _Fuck_ yes,” Jason groans when Tim takes the hint and sucks on it, pretty dark eyelashes fluttering against his skin. “Anytime you’re ready, kid.”

Tim’s eyes widen, but he let’s Jason’s finger out of his mouth with a little wet pop and slides off of him, pushes the coffee table out of the way and kneels on the floor between Jason’s legs. 

Jason wonders, not for the first time since he walked in the door, how this is his life.

“I haven’t done this before,” Tim says conversationally while he unbuttons and unzips Jason’s jeans. Jason lifts his hips up to let him pull them down around his ankles. “But I have had it done to me before.”

 _Jesus_... “Steph?”

Tim shakes his head as he pulls Jason’s dick out of his boxers. “Conner.” 

“ _Ohmygod_ ,” Jason says, both at the visual image Tim just provided him and the feeling of his warm, wet mouth wrapping around him. Fuck, Tim and Connor. He always knew they were close, but _christ_. Can’t blame him though. Superman might be a dick, but Connor’s got an ass that goes for fuckin’ _days_. 

“So,” Tim says - Jason almost punches him for taking his mouth off of him. “I need you to tell me if I do anything wrong. Or what I do right. I need input.”

“Input,” Jason gives a hysterical laugh. “Gotcha.” 

Then Tim’s sliding his tongue up the underside of his cock, dragging a groan out of Jason that seems to come from his fucking _toes_. Then he’s swallowing him back down, taking him as far as he can, alternating between bobbing his head and using his hand. Somewhere in the back of Jason’s mind he knows he’s supposed to be like, giving Tim pointers or _input_ or something, but all he can manage is _yes_ and the ever eloquent _god fuck yes, take it_. It’s just -- it’s so _good. He’s_ so good, for never having done this before, except for the fact that he’s not taking Jason very far down. Since he knows Tim likes to be the best at what he does and all, when he gets his hand in Tim’s hair he just considers this to be part of the lesson, gently pushing him down, getting him to take more of him, little by little, until --

Tim gags and pulls off, choking, tears stinging his eyes. 

“Sorry,” Jason says, lying because _christ that was the hottest thing_. “You okay?”

“M’fine,” Tim says, dragging his hand over his mouth. “I just need more practice.”

Jason wants to take back every mean thing he’s ever said about Tim being a perfectionist or a control freak because right now, it’s _so_ working for him. Tim’s taking sucking cock the same way he does anything: practice until he’s perfect at it. 

“Easy,” Jason says when he gags again, but Tim just takes a moment to breath then gets back at it. Meanwhile, Jason’s losing his goddamn _mind_. He’s just sitting there, watching Tim’s lips stretch around his dick, digging his nails into his palms because he doesn’t know how much more of this he can handle. 

“ _Goddamn_ ,” he groans and throws his head back when Tim finally manages to take him - _all_ of him - down and -- “Fuck, okay, that’s...that’s good.” He says, tugging at Tim’s hair, because seriously if he doesn’t stop like, right now, things are going to get messy.

“But I --”

“You’re _fine_ at that, trust me,” Jason says, flushed and breathing heavily. “Bedroom. _Now._ ”’

Tim’s eyes widen for a brief moment, but then he’s nodding and following a very naked, very hard Jason into his bedroom. Jason grabs him right before he reaches the bed and kisses him, hard and hot and rough, flicks the button on his jeans open and gets his hand down Tim’s pants.

“ _Oh_ ,” Tim says when Jason’s hand curls around him, teeth scraping down the side of his neck. 

“When I turn back around,” Jason growls against his throat, other hand snaking around Tim’s waist to squeeze his ass. “I want you naked and in my bed.”

Tim squeaks out an _okay_ as Jason lets him go to go fish a condom and lube out of the nightstand. When he turns back around, as promised Tim is in his bed, beautiful and naked and flushed all over. Jason takes a moment to commit it all to memory. This is almost most definitely a one time thing, but that doesn’t mean he can’t get more mileage out of it.

“You’re _staring_ ,” Tim points out. 

“You’re hot,” Jason shrugs and crawls on top of him, licking his way into Tim’s mouth, swallowing the little noises he makes when their bodies press and slide together. 

“Get this far with Connor?” Jason pulls back to ask -- he doesn’t know why.

Tim bites his lip, shakes his head.

“Good,” Jason says, but again he doesn’t know why. What does he care who and what Drake’s done? This is just business for him and fun for Jason, nothing more. 

“So, how do you want it?”

Tim swallows the lump in his throat. ‘Well. I should probably be on my knees. I think.”

Jason shrugs. “Up to you.” But he’s right, it’ll probably be less painful for him that way -- not that he cares. He doesn’t. But then, _jesus_ , Tim gets on all four and glances back at him over his shoulder, and, well -- Jason’s never tore open a condom wrapper so fast in his _life.”_

“Jason?” Tim asks as he’s rolling on the condom, bottom lip pulled between his teeth.

“What?”

A beat. “N-nothing.”

Jason sighs. “Relax, baby bird,” he says. “I don’t plan on hurting you.”

He curls his fingers around Tim’s shoulder as he slides in, watches Tim’s knuckles turn white around the headboard, but he doesn’t make a sound. 

“Breathe, Tim,” Jason says, rubbing little circles on his shoulder with the pad of his thumb. “Just breathe, okay.”

“O-okay,” Tim stutters out and Jason feels his shoulders relax a little bit when he exhales. 

“That’s good,” he says, bringing his other hand down to curl around Tim’s hip, stroke the skin there. He hasn’t moved at all yet, just letting Tim get used to this, to him. He’s never been this easy or this patient with _anyone_. Kid owes him fucking big time. 

“I-I’m good,” Tim finally says, letting go of the death grip he had on the headboard. “Can you...move, maybe?”

 

“Yeah,” Jason pretty much growls, fingers digging into Tim’s hips. He has no explanation for what he says next. (Later he’ll probably just blame it on his dick thinking for him and leave it at that.) He hardly recognizes the soft, gentle, _caring_ voice that comes out of his mouth. “Listen, I - I’m not much for slow and gentle, okay? I mean, I’ll try. But just tell me if I--”

“ _Jay_ ,” Tim groans and snaps his hips back against Jason. “Just fuck me already.”

Jason’s eyes roll into the back of his head when TIm’s hips snap back against him and he swears colorfully. One hand curled around Tim’s shoulder, the other around his hip, Jason does exactly what the baby bird asks, fucks his tight little ass, completely loses himself in the smell of sex, the feel of sweat-slick skin slapping together, the dirty, filthy things coming out of Tim’s nice, well-behaved mouth. He hasn’t felt this good, well, probably since the last time he had sex, but no, this is different. It feels different. The sweat gleaming on Tim’s spine, those noises coming out of his mouth, because of him, _for_ him. It’s doing things to Jason, things he doesn’t usually allow. It’s like he can’t help it this time though, everything just feels so fucking _good_ and _right_. He hauls Tim up and puts his mouth between his shoulderblades, tastes the salt on his skin and wraps his hand around Tim’s cock. 

“Oh god,” Tim moans, leaning his head back and banging it on Jason’s collarbone. “That feels...I feel…”

“Fucking amazing,” Jason murmurs into Tim’s shoulder, peppering his skin in kisses and little bites. “That’s how you feel.” 

“ _God_ ,” he gasps as Jason’s teeth catch his ear. “Don’t,” he says as Jason thrusts into him. “Don’t stop. God, don’t ever stop. Fuck, that feels so good, _Jay_.”

“God I love hearing you say my name like that,” Jason says next to his ear. “All desperate and needy. Say it just like that when you come for me, baby bird. Can you do that for me?”

Tim whimpers, then moans, reaching around and digging his nails into the back of Jason’s neck as Jason jerks him off, fast and hard. “Oh my _god_ , don’t stop, _yes_ , oh god. _Jay_ \--”

“Christ,” Jason gasps out when Tim comes, because he can _feel_ it, and as much as he wants to just keep his hand on Tim and watch him and listen to every single beautiful noise he can drag out of him, he can’t hold off any longer. He grips Tim’s hips so hard he’s sure there’ll be bruises there tomorrow and buries himself so deep inside the kid his vision whites out. “ _Fuck, Tim,_ ” he groans, burying his face between Tim’s shoulder blades and comes so hard he nearly blacks out.

“Wow,” Tim says when Jason finally rolls off of him and stares up at the ceiling. “Is it...I guess it’s always like that?”

“Yeah,” Jason lies. “Pretty much.”

 

***

 

Jason’s already on his second cigarette as Tim starts getting dressed.

“Let me help you.” 

“I learned to dress myself when I was two, Jason,” he says and pulls his t-shirt on. There are still plenty of bruises Jason left that the shirt doesn’t cover up.

“I mean with the case. I can help you figure out who’s calling the shots.” He has no idea why he’s pushing this. He knows Tim, knows he’s more than capable of taking care of himself. It’s just when Jason thinks about where he’s going, the kind of people he’s going to be around, the idea that they might put their _hands_ on him -- it makes Jason go quietly homicidal inside.

Tim shakes his head. “Don’t you think I tried? This is the only way.”

“I don’t like it.”

Tim laughs. “It’s not really my biggest fantasy either, Jason, but--”

“But think of the children, yeah I know.”

 

***

 

“Well, you are a pretty little boy, aren’t you?” Chester, the bastard responsible for selling fucking _children_ as sex slaves to the wealthiest and most degenerate in Gotham says, stroking Tim’s cheek. Tim’s hands are bound behind him with rope, his mouth gagged. He’d been caught by one of Chester’s goons while he was trying to free some of the kids. Not really part of the plan, but he’ll get out of it. Some how.

“Can’t let you get away from us, oh no. I know just the man for you, mmm, he’ll have so much fun with your pretty little mouth, yes he will. Come sit in Chester’s lap, he’ll tell you allll about your new Daddy.” 

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” a familiar voice says, busting the door down and taking out the two armed guards in the room before Tim can even get a look at him, though he doesn’t need to see his face to know it’s Jason.

Figures.

“ _What_ are you doing here?”

“Hey, baby bird,” Jason flashes his teeth. “Miss me?” 

“You can’t have him!” Chester squeals. “He’s mine, my pretty little toy, not yours. Not yours!” 

Jason punches him in the throat. “That’s your warning. Say one more word and I _will_ kill you.”

Tim knows Jason hasn’t actually killed in a while, but the look he has on his face right now, a mixture of disgust and pure, undiluted _hate_ , well. He should probably get him away from Chester.

“ _Jason._

“ _What?_ ”

“Untie me.”

“Oh. Right,” Jason says and tries not to gawk at Tim while he does it. He uh, really did manage to pull off the whole boy whore thing. As soon as he’s free and de-gagged, Tim borrows Jason’s phone to call the cops and give them the address of the place as Jason zip ties Chester’s hands behind his back and sets him out front, along with a couple of black eyes and a bloody nose as a souvenir. 

“I had it under control,” Tim says back at the safe house, hands on his hips, scowling at Jason. “I told you I didn’t need your help.”

“You were tied up and gagged.”

“But-”

“He wanted you to sit in his _lap._ ”

“I was _fine_.”

“You were about to be sold to the highest bidder!”

“And because you took it upon yourself to _rescue_ me, I’ll never know who that is! I wasn’t just trying to take down Chester, I was trying to find out the names of all the disgusting assholes who were… _what?_ ”

Jason blinks. “What? Sorry, I can’t concentrate with you looking like...that. It’s...distracting,”

Tim looks down at his clothes: leather pants so tight they could be a second skin slung low on his hips, threadbare purple t-shirt hanging off his shoulder, small rip across the front, too short to cover his stomach --

“Are you wearing _lipgloss_?”

“Yeah, I. Maybe you could let me borrow something?”

“No. No, continue uh, yelling at me, or whatever. In your very, very tight leather pants.”

Tim scowls. “Stop that. You’re leering.”

“Am I?”

 

“Don’t you think I’ve been leered at enough?”

“Am I?” Jason mumbles incoherently, his gaze paused at the bare flesh Tim’s shirt doesn’t quite cover, mouth slightly parted.

“You’re not making sense,” Tim grumbles. “I’m going to go find something else to wear.” 

“Yeah,” Jason mutters, staring at his perky little ass as he stalks off. “Do that.”

 

*** 

“You know, I thought I was supposed to be the clingy one,” Tim says as Jason’s presses up against his back while he makes waffles. “Recently de-virginized and all.”

Jason bites his ear. “I am not clingy.”

“You really are.” Tim bats him away with the spatula. “Don’t you have knives to sharpen or something?”

Jason heaves a self-deprecating sigh. “This is all your fault. You and your stupid work ethic and your obscenely tight pants.”

“And my mouth,” Tim helpfully reminds him.

Jason groans. How is this his life.


End file.
